Only Human
by whiteknees
Summary: Sophomore year was suppose to be the easiest year in high school, right? It was for a while for Kelsey Crestwik, until she noticed the unnatural occurrences going on in Beacon Hills. Soon enough, her snooping turns into getting sucked into the chaos of the supernatural. And it's all because of certain boy wanting to get his school crush to notice him. Isaac/OC. Starts at end of S1.
1. Chapter 1

**Wow! So I'm back to writing. Even though it's been about 10 months, I feel that I've grown in my writing. **

**[I'm going to ramble, so ignore me if you want to, and move on down the the story!]**

**Let me just start by saying that Teen Wolf is my personal drug. It's become a sick obsession of mine,(maybe not as crazily overdoing it like others, but pretty close), and when I started watching the show, my mind instantly found points in specific scenes that I could fit my own character in. Thus, Kelsey was born. So I've rattled my brain of a introduction and developing a plot for her since the first day of Sophomore year began for the Beacon Hills gang, and there was endless possibilites; however, when Season 2 began, and we were introduced Issac, Boyd and Erica, I knew then and there I had to start with the second season. **

**I still wanted to have a lead-in, though, before we hit that point of the story, and that's when I decided to have it begin the day before the dance. Mainly, in this Chapter 1/Prologue, you learn about Kelsey and a bit of her background. Now I'm just going to say that this chapter isn't a usual chapter that most stories start with. I've noticed most began with new students on their first day of school. I wanted to be different. **

**Anyway, hope you all enjoy this, and please let me know what you think!**

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The brilliant overhead lights in the small convenient store made it difficult for my eyes to adjust while I strolled inside, changing from the dark of night setting to blinding florescent lighting. I blinked several times, taking in my surroundings. The store was located just down the road from my house. It was quite expedient for my family at times. This particular night I was sent down to pick up a few things, which was written down for me on a notepad.

Snatching one of those untidy, plastic baskets with leftover lint and bits of torn paper, I trudged my way towards the designated aisles containing the items I needed. Package of printer paper for dad, hairspray and laundry detergent for mom, band-aids, AA batteries, and tissues for the house, and-if they had any-decorative clips for pining up my hair for Winter Formal.

I internally sighed and slightly roll my blue eyes, since I really did not want to go to the dance. Repeatedly I was begged by my friends to go, saying things like 'you're going to have a blast' or 'it'll be a memorable night' or even 'sorry that your boyfriend of a year dumped you, but I promise you'll have more fun with your friends' and so on and so fourth.

Yes, my boyfriend did dump me, a few days before Formal was scheduled. The way he asked me was plain, just a simple 'since were dating, I guess I have to take you'. Then, while I coordinated with our coloring-spending long shopping days at the mall for the perfect dress, as well as a tie for him since he had no intention whatsoever to search for one himself-he was contemplating on a way to break up with me without coming off as a complete douche bag. In the end, I was given a proposition, I could either be left dateless with a thirty dollar ticket that was practically pointless by then, or continue to go as his date, and make it the most awkward night of my life.

So, I decided-correction, my mother decided, that I should just go stag. It wouldn't be so bad too. I get to dance with who ever I wanted to, and have the freedom of not having to be stalked by a date who could quite possibly resemble a lost puppy, forcing me to spend the entire night with them. However, there was also the fact that Alex Holden, my notorious ex, would be there, probably with some idiotic 'all-boobs, no brain' girl from another school. Usually, I'm not the jealous type-actually I'm the opposite of that. I find myself to be more sympathetic of the poor girl who gets the sloppy seconds of whichever sadistic bastard I had recently dated. Example being Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore. I have no idea why I dated that hunk of junk, but she receives all of my sympathy, and even a bit of respect for tolerating him as long as she has. That, and she's got him whipped pretty well, which always makes me internally chuckle whenever I see the perky strawberry-blonde overpowering the roid-rager.

As my eyes scanned the shelves for hairspray, I felt my phone beginning to buzz in my pocket. Slipping it out, my eyes barely scanned over the screen to know the only person to ever call me at nine-thirty on a Thursday night would be my best friend. Heavily sighing, I accepted the call, bringing the phone to my ear. The first sound to come out of the electronic device was a wail. A long, loud greeting I occasionally received from this specific dork. "Heeeeeeeeeyyyyy K-k-k-Kelsey!" Rolling my blue eyes, I bit my lip, trying to hide my grin even though he can't even see me.

"What do you want?" I inquired, now placing my phone between my shoulder and ear as I use my free hand to collect the typical hairspray can my mom gets, before dropping it into my basket, and carrying on with my quest.

"Just giving you a heads up." He replied in a casual tone, yet I could tell with the popping of his 'p', I knew he was drunk, or rather getting there.

"For…" I drawled, rounding a corner and entering a new isle to retrieve the printer paper.

There was some shuffling on the other line, and I could hear the low beat of music and chatter off in the background. "Amy and I are coming to get you. So wear something decent and expect us to be in your driveway in exactly thirty minutes. Or else we'll storm the facility called your home and drag you by the ankles while you scream for mercy." This caused my mouth to form a tight line, my eyes falling shut while I pinch the brim of my nose. Yup, he was drunk.

"First, I'm not home at the moment, and second, you know very well that I could, and will, lay your ass out in point two seconds the moment you even attempt to grab me." He snickered on the other end. There was a pause, and I could hear his voice faintly as he muttered something to someone. He returned to the line shortly afterwards.

"Sounds accurate. Look, Hudson decided to have a pre-formal party, and only a few people are here. Just come down after you're home from wherever you're at. Okay?" Once more, my eyes rolled before I shut them.

"Yeah, sure. Fine."

"Great! See yah soon, Crestwik." Click. I groaned lowly, slapping my palm to my head. Great, now on top of my little bit of homework left and this shopping trip, I have to make an appearance to a party. For most people, they would have no problem with this kind of night. Since I'm not most people, I do have a problem, and it's called 'my parents'.

My father is an insurance salesman and my mother owns a boutique downtown. It's quite hard for me to talk with them about school and my social life when I rarely see them. My dad's always out on appointments with either his clients or bosses, and my mother usually opens the shop at eight and closes around nine at night. The thing is though, I know all they want is the best for me and my siblings; having a nice two-story house with a decent sized back yard and a swimming pool. The least I could do in return was be a productive daughter. Get good grades, participate in sports and clubs on campus.

It's hard though when I have to juggle keeping straight A's, being the president of one club and the vice president of another, being in two sports, and also be the oldest sibling at the house. I'm not saying I'm the oldest sibling, just the oldest one at the house.

There are six of us Crestwiks'. The oldest is my sister Cass, who's ten years older than me. Then Tate, who is seven years older, followed by Adam, four years later comes me, three after that is Maudie, and two later is the baby, Brody. So Beacon Hills is pretty well associated with my family. By the time I reached high school, we had a reputation, and let me just say, it isn't a good one.

Cass was average. She maintained straight B's all high school, then fought my parents tooth and nail when she declared that she was not going to college. When they decided she had no choice but to go, she did what she does best when a situation was presented to her. She ran away from it. So we waited for her to come back home, but after a day or so, my parents grew worried and went to search for her. It was when she called Tate and informed him that she had no plans to return home did my parents decide to let her go, and accept that they messed up with their first-born.

Tate, on the other hand, was the good kid. He was the star basketball player of the Beacon Hills Cyclones and co-captain of the swim team. He too maintained decent grades, and was given a full-ride scholarship to USC. Except the summer before college, he got a girl pregnant. Then during his training season before basketball started, he got in a fight with a teammate, resulting in him getting kicked off the team, losing the scholarship. My parents were so furious since they couldn't afford his tuition anymore, they made it clear he wasn't welcomed home, so he moved in with his girlfriend and child. I'll occasionally get calls from him, though. Updates on his life. Other than that he's been cut out of my life.

Adam always was the kid in the family that struggled. He never felt the same attention and affection the others received. He basically fell into the shadows of Cass and Tate, assumed that he was going to disappoint my parents as well. He was different. He was quiet and guarded. I usually would come home to find him locked away in his bedroom blasting music, his little 'hole', as my father would say.

I'm pretty sure I was the only one to catch the small implications that Adam was slowly cracking. He already had pressure weighing down on him to not be another screw up, add that to his inability to be social at school and that he usually was the one to take the blame for whatever mishap occurred at home. Whether it being a vase I broke, or Maudie getting a hold of dad's pipe from his office, Adam was the one assumed to have done it.

Then, on a chilling February day, he snapped. He just couldn't take it anymore.

No one saw it coming. How could they? He never expressed any emotion. I mean, there were times where I was concerned he might be inflicting pain on himself, or possibly drinking his sorrows away, but I never saw a single sign of him desiring to commit suicide. Before I knew it, he was gone.

When I reached freshmen year, all eyes were on me. So, wanting to prove that I wasn't going to let any dubious remarks or assumptions rule over me, I started to get involved. I fluttered around like a little social butterfly, trying to spread myself as an 'all around girl', not wanting anyone to dislike or hate me for whatever reason. Things soon became easy for me. I hopped around from clique to clique, catching up with as many people as I could, trying to maintain an appearance in my friends' lives.

There was only one person who stuck by my side, though. One who knew just about everything and anything about me. One who remained a friend of mine since I was five years old. That person was Nolan Becker, and I swear I have no idea what I would do without him. He was my other half. A twin, really. Our parents knew, since the moment the two of us met, that we were going to become inseparable. Constantly we would get tease and poked at by others, wondering when we were going to start dating or when our wedding date was going to be set. We never let them get in our heads though. Our friendship was so close knit, we never saw each other than strictly platonic best friends.

Grinning to myself, I found my hand reaching out to grab a hold of the last band-aid box when my fingers grazed the hand of another person. Glancing over, I found a boy around my age, with a mop of dirty blonde curls for hair, soft blue-gray eyes, and striking cheekbones. Isaac Lahey towered above me in height, nearing about a foot taller than my five foot four stature. The only few things I knew about him were that he was shy, yet sweet, he played lacrosse with Nolan, and that it was just him and his dad.

I knew Isaac's brother better than I probably knew Isaac, since Camden and Tate were good friends. There were a few times when Tate would bring me over to the Lahey's, forcing Isaac and I to spend time together while the boys threw a party or had some girls over. It was hard coaxing Isaac out of his shell and actually be his friend, but when he did drop his guard, he was a really sweet boy. We always engrossed ourselves in comic books and video games, sometimes having the company of Matt Daehler or Nolan.

"S-sorry." Isaac stuttered out before retracting his hand, which I noticed was shaking a little. Training my eyes back up to his face, I really gazed upon him this time, catching sight of a cut on his cheek, and a faint bruising forming around his eye. I bit the inside of my cheek, curious as to how he got those injuries. "You can have them, Kelsey." He quickly added, before reaching to different box, which were Batman print band-aids.

I reassured him with a warm smile, not wanting him to be so shy whenever he's around me. "Hey, if you want them," I snatched the previous box, which had all different kinds of band-aids: the larger sized, butterfly stitching, normal, small, "take them. I'm sure my siblings would have no problem with Batman and Dora ones." I pushed the box forwards, waiting for him to take it out of my hand. He hesitated, but reluctantly took it, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Thanks." He replied while ducking his head down. He scuffed his worn sneaker on the tiled floor, before glancing back up at me. "I-I guess I'll see you in Chem tomorrow?" I bit my lower lip, nodding. He returned the gesture before stalking past me, a cool breeze following behind him, as I catch a good whiff of his usual smell, cheap cologne and soap. He's my lab partner, so of course I'm going to be able to decipher what he smells like.

Trying to shake off the thought of Isaac's soon-to-be black eye, I continued on with my shopping, getting the last item from my list. For some reason, I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Every possible scenario came into mind of how he could have gotten that fresh bruising. Maybe he tripped and hit his eye on something; I know I've done that before. Or what if he was punched. Had someone been bullying him? Maybe he just got it from lacrosse, except that wouldn't make sense since he's wearing a helmet. Whatever it was that caused his eye to become swollen, I know it definitely hurt like hell.

Once I entered the checkout counter, I had forgotten all about him. My new distraction became the incessant text messages Nolan decided to send me. Wondering when I was coming, if I could possibly let him copy my math homework, where I was at, what's my favorite color, then he started to quote random movies. By this point, I was groaning each time my phone buzzed in my pocket. The cashier quirked a brow, glancing down towards my back pockets. Instead of giving an apologetic look and muttering something about 'stupid friend', I just mimicked his look, tilting my head to the side, quirking a blonde brow, and wearing an expression the reads 'why are you looking at my ass?'. He narrowed his beady brown eyes at me, before punching something into the register, and coming up with my total.

As I was paying, a distant jingling sound could be heard to my right. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Isaac hesitantly gazing at locks. My eyes raked over his figure before drifting down towards the items in his grasp. The band-aids from before and a first aid kit could be found. Furrowing my brows, I pursed my lips, unbelievably curious and slightly worried as to why he had those things.

"Ma'am." Snapping back my attention to the cashier, I found the slender, balding man shoving my credit card towards my direction. Plucking it from his hand, I gave him a forced smile before collecting my plastic bag of things.

Once I exited the door to the store, I saw Isaac's rusted bike placed beside the ice machine. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I contemplated on whether I should offer him a ride. I'm almost positive he lived a bit of a ways from the store, but I had no problem driving across town. If it meant avoiding the party, then by all means I would do it.

From behind me, the automatic doors slid open, and out walked the boy in question. He noticed me hovering by his bike, causing him to balk. "Kelsey. Wh-what's going on?" He asked nervously, attempting to scratch the back of his neck, only to have his plastic bag swing into his face. His cheeks flushed, and his posture slumped in embarrassment. My mouth formed s tight line as I attempted to hide my grin.

"I was just wondering if you wanted a ride. I know that you live kind of far from here." An awkward moment lingered between us, but I quickly added, "I have no problem taking you. We can just put down my backseats to fit your bike." I gestured towards Tate's 1977 red Ford Bronco. The car was definitely classified as 'vintage', but when I got my license over summer break, my dad and I were able to find a better working engine than the car had before. We spent weeks exchanging the old one for the new one, but when it got installed, the car never once faltered and/or failed me.

The lanky boy glanced between his bike and my car, and I could see how doubtful he was about accepting the ride. As if something in the back of his mind continued to nag him that he shouldn't be accepting a generous offer from someone like me. Maybe he was thinking that I felt sympathetic for him. I really hope he wasn't, since I would never do that to a friend.

Finally, his blue eyes moved to mine, and slowly I saw something changing in his gaze. It almost went unnoticed-like if I blinked I probably wouldn't have caught it-but I saw it, and it looked as if his eyes brightened a little. With the brightening came a hesitant smile.

"Um…yeah, a ride would be nice." I could feel my own lips forming a grin.

"Great!" I chirped, twisting around and heading towards my car. Popping open the trunk, I got to work on lowering the seats. When they dropped, I stepped to the side to find Isaac still standing beside his bike. "You know," I chimed in, seeing that he had zoned out. When my voice rang out, his eyes snapped in my direction, "if you wanted the ride, I'm going to need to put your bike in the trunk, and in order to do that, I need the bike."

He ducked his head, and I could hear faintly a chuckle escape his lips. He walked his bike over, and when I reached out to take it, he quickly yanked it away from my grasp. "Don't worry," he softly said, "I can put it in." I nodded, not even bothering to hide my smile. I could tell he was only doing this to seem macho. I mean what man wouldn't feel a slight jab at his masculine side when a girl was doing all the hefty work while he stood on the sidelines.

Once the bike was placed inside, I shut the trunk, about to make my way to the driver's side when Isaac's voice hampered my movement. "You know, without the tiny flags, the large 06 painted on the side, and the tire cover that read 'The Cyclone', I almost wouldn't have recognized this legendary truck." I groaned theatrically, rolling my eyes. For some reason, this response made Isaac timidly step back from me, his servile expression making me realize my mistake. He probably thought I was mad about him finding out the truck's true identity.

"No!" I immediately bellowed as I reacted to his reaction. "No! I just…I was just doing that…well cause Tate drowned this beauty in…well in school pride. The tire cover, the plastered number on the side that symbolized his jersey number as well as his graduating year, and the flags…it's just-it just shouldn't be covered up like that, you know?" A moment of awkward silence flittered between us as I realized what I had said. How could he know when he doesn't even own a car. Smacking my palm against my forehead for the second time this night, I muttered to myself a string of curses. "Look…-I-I-" I sighed, fumbling over my words now. Ducking my head, I shut my eyes behind the curtain of golden curls that covered my face. I took a deep breath before slowly raising my head and leveling my gaze upon Isaac's, who wore an expression of amusement and confusion. "How about this? I'll stop making a fool of myself if you never bring this up again. Deal?"

He remained frozen, though. Only for a beat, before his face broke out into a wide smile, and a bit of a chuckle escaped his mouth. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, knowing that he didn't think I was a complete nut job. "Yeah, deal." He replied, extending his hand. I reluctantly took it, giving it a quick shake. We stood there in another beat of silence, both of us shifting on the balls of our feet. Finally, after what felt like hours of excruciating awkwardness, did Isaac break the silence. "We should-" He trailed as he jerked his thumb in the direction of the truck.

"Yeah. Yes. We should-we should be going…to your house…because you need a ride." I mumbled the last part, as I found myself once again tacking on more idiotic words than I should be saying. Sighing, I raked a hand through my curly blonde hair, disheveling the neat part down the middle I had before.

I hopped into the driver seat the same time that Isaac scooted into the passenger. I glanced over to him, giving him a soft smile. He returned the gesture, before his blue eyes roamed across the interior of my car. When his eyes landed on the little tornado spring with a suction cup on the bottom that was nestled on the middle of the dashboard, he raised a finger, pointing to it with a quirked brow. My eyelids fell shut, and I let out a low groan.

"I thought you said you got rid of it all?" He inquired, and I could definitely hear the hint of amusement in his tone, sensing he was having way to much fun with finding all of the imperfections.

"I did. This," dramatically, I swatted at the stupid trinket, growling when it didn't even budge from my attack, "was super-glued by my idiot brother."

"Oh."

"Yeah." I started up the car, backing out quickly before I exited from the parking lot and to the main road. "So," I interjected the taciturn atmosphere that roamed between us, "is there any back roads that I can take to your house?"

Isaac's blue eyes shifted towards me, one of his pale hands gripping the handle above the door. His pupils were a little dilated, and I could see his chest moving a bit quicker than usual, indicating his pulse had picked up. "I-I think so. Why?" He asked so innocently, that I couldn't hold back my wide grin at the look of his apprehensiveness.

"Well, Isaac, I guess you get to learn a little something about me that you might not know." I proudly stated. I glanced over to see him gulp, and I chuckled lowly.

"And what's that, Kelsey?" He returned in an absolutely nervous tone.

"I like to go fast." With that, my foot slammed down on the gas pedal, the car revving up as we zoomed down the empty street. All the while I rolled down the windows, laughing out as the cool night breeze hit our faces. I cranked up the radio, letting the melodious sound of "My Body" by Young the Giant blast into our ears.

Isaac remained impassive in his seat, his wide eyes fixated on the road, his stature suggesting that he was restraining himself from going along with this. In his expression, though, I could see he wanted to. He wanted to let go and go along with the ride.

So I tapped his shoulder, offered him a goofy smile, and loudly say over the blaring music and rushing wind, "Sometimes all you need to do in life is let go, and you are more than welcome to do that with me." And so he did. His tenseness dispersed and I could spot how he was giving in. Soon enough, he was smiling as well, his head poking out the window like a dog, and his contagious chuckles and cheers filling me with a warm feeling.

The feeling that I helped someone with breaking out of their shell. That's the one feeling that I strive to get from people, and with Isaac, I could tell he rarely was given this opportunity. I decided to take as many detours as possible, while we blasted the radio, and let our rambunctious teenage sides take over.

Since we are only human, and sometimes the human thing to do is to let yourself go along with the ride.

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**I said it was different, didn't I? Well, that's the first chapter! I hope I wrote Isaac well, and that you guys like my OC. **

**I wanted the face-claim for Kelsey to be Skyler Samuels, if anyone was wondering. Also, this story is inspired by the song "Human" by Gabrielle Aplin, and my sequels(if I do get enough responses to keep this going) will most definitely be titles of more of her songs, so expect that.**

**Um...I guess this is the part where I request reviews, follows and favorites! So do that! **

**All my love,**

**Maddy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! So I'm sorry for such a long wait for an update; long story short, my life got busy. So I give you the next chapter, the Formal! Sorry that it's not quite detailed. **

**Also thank you all soooo much for the feedback I got! I mean it's only been one chapter, but 4 reviews, 7 favorites and 12 followers is more than any other first chapter upload I've had, so thank you for that!**

**Now onto the chapter!**

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I drummed my fingers against the rough, leather steering wheel of the Bronco, as my head bobbed to the blaring music echoing around me. If there was one thing I hated more than having to wake up at six in the morning so I can get ready and drop off my siblings to their school, it was having to wait upon Nolan to hurry his ass out of his house. It was a constant thing of his; to miscalculate the materials he needed for school, before he rushed back inside to gather whatever it is, then as he scrambles back outside, another thing is forgotten.

Slamming my hand on the horn, I await for the blonde to return into my peripheral view. It would be his third appearance since first exiting the house. When he did, his jacket was on by one sleeve, his blue striped t-shirt was partially tucked in, and his usual slicked-back hair was hidden underneath a black Beacon Hills baseball cap. I groaned loudly as he approached. He jerked open the car door, tossed his backpack and lacrosse bag into the back seat, and settled into the passenger seat with graceful ease. When he noticed how I had no intention of backing out of his driveway, his blue eyes fixated on mine, his dark brows furrowed.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting my eyelids fall shut with complete and utter annoyance and frustration. "What?" Nolan snapped with displeasure. I exhaled a strangled noise, before brandishing a finger towards his lacrosse bag.

"You don't have practice today, remember?" I growled. My best friend glanced back towards the rugged maroon colored bag, the top part of it slumped forward, as if the bag itself was disappointed in him. It also gave off a pungent smell that made my nostrils burn and my eyes slightly water. It was putrid and vile. "Also, could you possibly wash it some time? It smells like absolute shit. I mean, even Finstock would find it to be disgusting! And that says a lot, since…well, since it's Finstock, and let's just say he's not the best when it comes to personal hygiene."

Nolan rolled his eyes, before yanking his bag from the backseat, making sure to hit me on the back of my head with it before jogging away from my car and back towards his house. A few seconds later he returned, a bottle of cologne in his grasp. I couldn't stop my grin as he sprayed a bit on himself before he reentered the Bronco. "Better?" He hissed with a pout.

"Well, I said your bag smelled, not you." There was an awkward pause between us when he realized that I caught him. "And yes, I know you were doing that to try and make me think you weren't dousing yourself to smell fantastic for Amy." Again, his blue orbs rotated in a circle. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes glued to the road.

"I didn't douse myself." He grumbled under his breath, and I chuckled at the defensive tone he used, as well as the fact that he didn't deny it. As we left his house and went back onto the road, I could sense by his body language that he was struggling with a hangover. Forehead pressed to the cool window, occasionally cringing, and also by rudely turning down the joyous sound of Panic! At the Disco while I was in mid-jam.

"Hey!" I accusingly yelled, smacking his backwards placed hat off of his head, "just because you're suffering doesn't mean you should make others suffer too." Shortly afterwards, the music was back to its regular volume. He winced once more, causing my smile to widen. I knew we were doomed to fall into an imminent silence due to Nolan's crabby mood, so I decided to avoid it. Just as my mouth opened, he beat me to the punch.

"You missed out last night." He said in a sing-song tone. Of course he would try to make me feel bad about skipping the party.

My lips formed a tight line, and I thumped my thumb against the wheel as the song changed to 'Girl Got Hot' by Weezer. "I had better things to do."

"Lies." He stated in a banal tone, as if every word that ever came out of my mouth was not true.

My brows rose so high, they were hidden behind my blonde curls. "Excuse me? Do you have a tracker on me? Do you know my every move? Do you secretly live your life to that sadistic stalking Police song?" I questioned wildly, tacking on a baffled chuckle. He sighed loudly at my quick changing attitude. I guess the one thing that made Nolan and I develop a strong bond was that our moods thrived off of one another. If he was mad, I was mad, maybe with him or at him. If I were sad, his day would too consist of a cloud of melancholy looming over him. At this moment, we found ourselves taking jabs at each other, a small tension building up.

He raked his fingers through his fair hair, which was sticking out in different places. He really didn't have a lot of time to get ready, I guess. Usually, it was gelled back, ending behind his ears. "So what were these 'better things'?" He inquired when the tense atmosphere cleared up between us.

I merely shrugged. "I gave Isaac Lahey a ride home. Then I finished up my Spanish homework and cooked dinner for Maud, Brody and I."

"Lahey, huh? How'd you manage to get him to even say a word to you?" Nolan asked, while cracking his knuckles.

I scuffed. "I didn't manage anything. He biked down to the Quick and Go from his house, and I offered him a ride home since he lives a ways from there. That's it." And with that, the subject was dropped. We were still a good couple of minutes from the school, and I hated the eerie silence resting between us, even with the radio on. Clapping my hands together, I cracked a wide smile. "Recap of last night; in three, two, one!" I chirped before directing a finger at him.

Nolan straightened up, rubbing his large hands together, quickly licking his lips. He didn't miss a beat. "Let's see here." He began, "Amy and I got there when only a few people were there. Soon the team showed up, about thirty people were there in total." His lips scrunched up, twitching towards the right. "Uh, Olivia Orton and Max Dashwell hooked up. I think Dexter Finicky passed out in the backyard and the guys drew all over him." Then his eyes lit up as something wonderful came to mind. "And the bag-of-dicks was there!" I chuckled at the nickname he gave my ex, even if they were friends.

"Really now?" I said in an apathetic tone.

"Yup. And he was already stumbling and slurry when he got there. So Wes, Danny, and Brian Taylor threw him out. Literally, they picked him up and threw Holden onto the front steps. It was glorious!" He happily recalled of the memory, his blue eyes in a daze as he remembered the events.

I placed my hand on my chest, a wide grin sprawling across my lips. "My boys." I said in a sweet, praising tone. We were pulling into the school's parking lot at that point. I parked towards the front of the school, right beside a familiar baby blue Jeep. Nolan and I grabbed our bags and stalked our way towards the front of the school. We were enthusiastically chatting about how stupid tonight was going to be when an unwelcomed arm slung over my shoulders. I glanced to my left to find three newcomers.

The arm belonged to Weston Marx, a good friend, lacrosse player, and someone who thinks he's a lady-killer. His two followers, Brian Taylor and Kyle Murphy trailing a bit behind us.

Wes toyed with the lace hem of my white blouse, as the hand attached to the arm that is over my shoulders pushed me closer beside him. "Hello there, beautiful. We missed you last night." He said in a what he thought was a 'husky, seductive' tone. I gave him a forced smile, shrugging his arm off of me.

"I better things to do than hang around an egotistical and thoughtless person like yourself." I retaliated, earning a chorus of 'oohs' and 'burns' from Nolan, Taylor, and Murphy. There was a bit of red creeping into Wes's cheeks, but he tried not to let it get to himself as he flashed a mock pained expression.

Pressing a hand over his heart, he widened his green eyes. "That hurt, K. That really hurt."

"Well I do live to watch you suffer, Marx." I reached up and patted his cheek, before disheveling his dark brown hair. He attempted to pushed me away, but I over powered him, now bringing both my hands up to mess up his hair. The others joined in, as we all poked around with him. Soon enough, we found ourselves entering the school cackling with boisterous laughter.

The day went by rather slowly, as I trudged through all of my classes, each one taking a little bit more of energy out of me. Once lunch rolled by, I was completely drained of all happiness and barely clinging to any tolerance. How could I have any when I am tortured by all of my peers about them having plans about the Formal tonight. The expensive places they'll go for dinner before hand, how they envision the night will go, things that might occur afterwards. I mean, my plan was to chow down on some Jack in the Box with Nolan and Amy, get to the dance overloaded on caffeine and sugar. Spend the night going full out dancing with anyone I want until my feet are practically bleeding in my heels-even then I might just keep dancing. Then go home, scrub off all of my makeup and put my styled hair in a messy bun while I TV binge on the new season of 'Psych' and stuff my face with junk food.

It all sounds fantastic, how could it not? But I still have this tugging feeling in the bottom of my stomach, a small and insecure voice in the back of my head whining about 'being dateless won't make the night fun'. For now, though, I just needed to slap on some duct tape to that voice and shove it out of my mind.

Dropping my tray full of fries and chicken fingers on the lunch table, I scooted into my seat. Amy practically leapt into the air, her light blue eyes full of surprise and her hands slightly trembling from the noise. When my dark-haired friend and teammate caught sight of me, she flung a carrot at my direction, to which I easily caught in mid-air. "You scared me half to death!" She whined loudly.

"Well what do you want me to do to revive that half?" I simply questioned. "Get Nolan to man up and ask you out?" I smugly smirked, quirking a blonde brow before taking a bite out of the orange vegetable.

She narrowed her eyes, but straightened her posture and toyed with a dark curl. "He'll ask me when he's ready." I snorted with half of a handful of fries sticking out of my mouth after finishing the carrot, my face literally shoved into my plate. Amy scrunched her nose, a disgusted expression crossing her face. "Can you not?" She inquired in a displeased tone.

"Nope. I'm single, so I can pig out all I want." I replied, flashing her a smile, my cheeks puffed out from the amount of food in them.

"Well, it's very unattractive." She said in her usual prissy tone, all the while tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder, her baby blue eyes averting from me and my sloppy eating habits. That's Amy for you. She's the girl known to act and be treated like a princess, but give her some basketball shoes, put her on a court, and she is a whole different person. We've been friends for about three years now, and we have definitely come a long way. Back then I was the queen of tomboys, with ratty overalls and my weird obsession with rain-boots, while she was all about fashion and make-up and being a girly-girl. I believe that we really have changed each other; me getting her to loosen up and live a little, her breaking my bad habits of chewing my nails and always having my curly hair tied up. She started to go lighter on her make-up and be friendlier with boys, while I started to wear more socially acceptable girl clothes and have better manners. We were meant to be friends.

"I think it's hot." A new voice chimed in from behind, and a tray was slammed down beside me, a few more following pursuit. Soon enough, our table was crowded with lacrosse boys.

Nolan scooted close to Amy, their shoulders touching. The corner of my lips twitched up at the glow in Amy's happy expression while she gazed up at my best friend. He gave her a weary smile down at her before he spoke up. "Taylor, dude, stop trying to flirt with girls who are never interested." He sounded exhausted. I tapped his leg under the table, and when our eyes met, I shot him a look. He merely replied with a roll of his eyes and a shrug. Narrowing my eyes at him, I turned my head to face Taylor, placing my chin on my folded hands before batting my eyelashes.

"Can't argue with that statement." I added, to which made the boy deflate with defeat. It wasn't long before the entire table was consumed in incessant talking and exaggerated hand gestures. All the while I observed an unfamiliar scene. Off in the distance, on the other side of the lunch area, sat Lydia Martin all by herself. She was on her phone, absent-minded. Her head lolled from side to side, while she played with a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair. Something was off.

Gesturing a fry in her direction, I glanced over at the table of boys. "What's up with Lydia? I mean, where's her roided-up boyfriend and second-in-command?" I asked, referencing Jackson and that new girl that follows her around. Allison? She was one person I still haven't quite got the experience to talk to.

"You didn't hear?" Danny Mahealani piped up at the end of the table. He sounded shocked by my question. I made a face and shook my head, completely clueless about whatever was big news. He dramatically widened his brown eyes. "She and Jackson broke up, and now he's taking Allison Argent to Formal." This caused the table to erupt into a new loud discussion, all the guys adding in different commentary like, "Of course Jackson was going to dump her at some point, she had him brainwashed" or, "Wasn't Allison going out with McCall?"

"I heard that Allison dumped Scott because she and Jackson had a thing going on. That's why he broke up with Lydia and the two are going together tonight." Amy proudly stated. I rolled my eyes, not believing a single word that left her mouth.

"Well Jackson never did stay with one girl for long," Evan Teller remarked from my left. His taunting gaze landed on me, before he leaned in close, his brown eyes gazing at me snidely. Let me just begin with the fact that Teller is a complete asshole, and always has been. He's one of Holden's best friends and never did like me. Only god knows for whatever reason. I swear, I never did a damn thing to that boy-he just absolutely hated me. He was constantly officious too, and snatched the chance when he had it. Now was that chance. With a cruel smirk, he leveled his eyes with mine. "Isn't that right, Kels? Once his eye caught something prettier than what he had, he dropped his dead weight and went for the new girl."

That's when I was done. He had cut the last thread of my patience and tolerance. I turned to him, flashing a cold smile. "Wow, that was a wonderful observation. At least he can get pretty girls." My accusing eyes traveled from his face, down his body, and back up. I pursed my lips, giving him a sympathetic look. "Maybe if you use that pile of shit you call a mouth to say something nice, girls might actually pay attention to you. Even though that's still a slim chance." With that, I was pushing out of my chair, snatching my tray and slinging my bag over my shoulder before stalking off in the opposite direction.

From behind I could hear the guys yelling for me to come back, all the while scolding Teller. I clenched and unclenched my fists while I stormed out of the cafeteria and down the hallway towards my locker. This formal was stupid, Holden and his goonies were stupid, everything was stupid.

Venting my anger under my breath in snarling grumbles, I neared my locker. Only to have my clear path randomly blocked by two sluggish figures. Their backs were to me, heads ducked, and falling into simultaneous steps. I instantly recognize the two lanky boys, one with a mop of dark curls, the other with a buzz cut. They were taking up the majority of the hallway, and I couldn't seem to get around them.

Stiles Stilinski waved his hands around wildly, his mouth moving so fast I couldn't even possibly imagine how **he** could even comprehend what he was saying. His amber eyes were focused on his best friend, Scott McCall, who was sheepishly staring down at his feet, which were moving at a very treacherous pace. "Look, dude, I get that this is complete crap, but how are you even going to get to the dance without a ride? Or a date? I mean you can't show up stag! No one goes stag! Well, at least no guy does…that would be just weird." Stiles exclaimed, jabbing his friend in the chest, his tone changing drastically from what he thought was a whisper yell-which wasn't-to calm and more of talking to and correcting himself.

"I'll find a way." Scott muttered in return.

"F-f-…Scott, you always say that! And do you usually find a way?" He didn't even give his friend a chance to answer before Stiles was firing off again, "No! Dude, I'm just trying to help. Help you're social status. Help-" Finally, while Buzzcut-Freckles was moving closer to his friend, I was able to scoot past them and bolt to my locker.

Nudging past them, I couldn't help but catch the rest of the conversation. Only that was a mistake, because soon I was being sucked into it. "-maybe we can find you a date by the end of today. I'm sure that-" When I brushed past the two is when I made my major mistake. Knowing Stilinski caught sight of me, I tried to pick up my pace, but it was too late. "-that Kelsey here would go with you."

Not even bothering to turn and face them, I yelled in return, "No. No Kelsey will not go anywhere with anyone. Nope. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever."

"Awe, come on, K!" Stiles interjected with an equally loud response. "Why are you so down?" I balked in my steps, my eyes gazing upon the ceiling before I give a quick shake of my head. No, no I wasn't going to rant at these two. They don't deserve my ferocious wrath. I picked back up my walking, deciding to ignore the two instead. "Kelsey! Hey Kels-" He continued to yell at me while I sped down the hallway and finally neared my locker.

I could faintly hear Scott lowly tell his friend to just leave me alone. Bless that brilliant boy. The two were gone once I managed to exchange my books and fix my appearance in the small mirror taped to the inside door of my locker. The bell signaling the end of lunch rang from over my head, and I found myself stalking off to my next class. Chemistry.

I sulked in my seat, being one of the first people to arrive into the classroom. Harris was at his desk, reading some probably intellectual book about how to be a brilliant asshole. He chomped on an apple while doing so, his chewing getting louder and louder, even though I'm all the way at the back of the classroom. Soon the ticking of the clock was also getting on my nerves, the noise growing more annoying at the second. Add that to the slapping of textbooks hitting desk surfaces. I could just feeling my anger pending up inside of me, and I was ready to explode.

I could feel my hands tightly gripping my lab table, my eyes narrowed upon the green chalkboard, doing the best I could to block out all of the noise. But it wasn't much use.

"Hey." My head snapped towards the chair beside me where I found my lab partner, Isaac. His blue eyes glanced over at me before he reached into his backpack and withdrew his textbook. He plopped it onto the black tabletop, a loud crashing noise soon following after the hard book made contact with the table.

"God, can you not do that!" I growled loudly at him, as my nostrils flared and my upper lip curled in a snarl. We received a few curious stares from students around us. It took me a second to realized what I had just said, and how I said it. I just screamed at this poor kid and he has no idea why! I instantly caught the hurt and confusion in his gaze, and an unsettling feeling of guilt struck me. I closed my eyes for a moment, my mouth drawing in a tight line. I exhaled through my nose before speaking. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's just…I've just…" I was a loss for words though. I felt so incredibly bad about doing that, especially after we had a good time together last night.

But, to my surprise, Isaac was nodding, his previous expression morphing into one of comprehension and kindness. "I get it." Judging by the baffled look I was giving him, he had to explain in his usual bundle-of-nerves shy talk. "I-I mean I get it because, well, everyone's just been talking about the dance. And it kind of gets annoying, you know? Of course you know. Yeah. Well…yeah, I get it."

"How'd you know I was upset about the dance?" I asked without even thinking twice about the question. I noticed how his cheeks turned a little pink, his blue eyes sheepishly glancing down at the table.

"Lucky guess." He softly replied, the corner of his lips twitching up in a shy smile.

I slumped back into my chair, dramatically throwing my arm over my eyes, groaning out. "It's just…I don't understand why people have to focus on the dance as the main topic? Like, quit reminding me that I'm dateless and that tonight will not become the best night of my sophomore year. They're torturing us." The moment the word 'us' left my lips, I heard Isaac lightly snort, knowing that I was now cuing him into my rant.

"When will they stop pouring salt into our wounds?" He murmured lowly, his eyes gazing down at his thick hands in his lap. They were folding and unfolding, his fingers clenching and unclenching. I noticed, though, that there were faint scars on the pale skin covering his hands. His knuckles mainly having them. My brows furrowed, and I opened my mouth to ask him what they're from, but decided against it. Instead, I attempted to focus back on what he said. Unfortunately, I forgot.

"What?" I inquired, my eyes darting up to his face.

His soon leveled with mine, and we found ourselves observing each other's faces. He licked his lips quickly before speaking. "I-I, uh, I asked when will they stop pouring salt into our wounds?" That's when our eye contact broke, and his flickered towards the front of the room. But that didn't stop me from continuing to search his features. His black eye was now hidden underneath a poor attempt of concealer. His cut on his cheek lighter, but still scabbed. There was a softness to his features, though. His cheeks were rosy, adding a very boyish look to him that I found myself oddly attracted towards. His golden mop of curls was it's usual self, half covering his forehead, making him seem younger than he was, but I liked it. The look made him all the more cuter. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts. We were just having a conversation, and now I'm dissecting his face mentally, finding all the things good and bad about him.

"That's actually a very deep saying." I pointed out, my brows raised in appraisal.

He merely shrugged, glancing back towards me. "Just something Camden said a lot." And with that, I knew that the conversation was dead. What more was there to go on with that? I could only imagine a very emotional and devious talk about our dead brothers. A topic I plan to steer clear of for as long as I need to.

Luckily, Harris stood up, quieting the class as the bell rang. _Saved by the bell, _I thought, _and the asshole._ For the rest of the class I channeled all of my attention to Harris's lesson on ionic and covalent bonds. Something I would rarely find myself to do in this particular class.

As long as it meant not having to hear the horrible attempts of whispers as people chat about tonight. I could feel myself leaning towards just not going and instead planting a fucking garden or **something**, anything other than to find that what I thought might be a fun time going stag was instead a terrible idea.

When the class ended, I was packing up as quickly as possible, trying to get out of the room before everyone else. I saw how slowly Isaac was with packing, taking his time slipping his notebook into his backpack and gingerly collecting his textbook from the table. Pursing my lips, I decided against bolting from the classroom.

Maybe I don't have to go alone tonight.

"Hey." I softly said, standing in front of him, while his head was ducked, his attention on zipping up his backpack. But instantly, the moment I spoke, his blonde curls covered head shot up, a look of surprise worn on his face.

"I thought you already left."

I shrugged, tightening my grip on my own textbook. "I decided to stay behind and walk with you to your next class. Since it's right next to mine." I received an even more surprised look from him than before. This time, his mouth was slacked, his blue eyes widened.

"You know that we have classes next to each other?" He was purely shocked.

I couldn't help but quirk a brow, before I slowly nodded. "Yes, Isaac, I know. Since, you know, I always see you when we leave the rooms." I slowly said, as if he wasn't going to comprehend what I said if I spoke quickly.

He closed his eyes in embarrassment, his mouth clamping shut before gulping. "Yeah…uh…sorry, forgot." He mumbled before slipping on one of his backpack straps. We made our way out of the classroom in complete silence. Uncomfortable silence. Something I couldn't stand. Manning up, I began the topic on my mind.

"So…" I drawled out, "I was thinking, since you don't have a date, and I don't have one…that we should…you know…go together." I stated in a hopeful and optimistic tone.

This caused him to abruptly stop in the hallway. I twisted around to face him with a confused look. He blinked several times, letting what I said register for a couple of seconds. Finally, his dark brows raised, hiding behind his blonde curls. He pointed a finger at himself, his eyes wide with bewilderment. "You…want me…to be your date?" He jabbed the finger against his chest. "Me?" He asked, as if I asked him to freaking jump off a cliff with me.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I want Christian Bale as my date. I just want you to ask him for me." Instantly, his face was the one to morph into confusion. I sighed, pinching the brim of my nose. "Yes! I want you to be my date!" He stood there, completely dumb-struck. Students had to push past him in the crowded hallway. For some reason, this actually made me mad. Is he not understanding what I'm saying? I tucked my textbook under my arm before raising them in the air and clenching my fingers so they looked like claws, ready to strangle him. "Do you want me to spell it out for you?" I impatiently asked.

He remained silent, rocking back and fourth on his feet. I began to take note of how he started to shut down after receiving a harsh tone. When ever Coach Finstock yells at him, teachers, I.e. Harris, harass him, or just now, with my choleric state I'm in and having snapped at him, again. I watched as he gulped, nervously shifting in his place. I bit my lip, overwhelmed with guilt. "I'm sorry. You know what? Just forget I asked, it was a stupid question." I gave him an ostensible smile, hoping to lighten up the awkwardness between us. The crowd had died down, a few stragglers roaming around before the bell. We were just a hallway away from our classes. "We should get going." I said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the next hallway.

Isaac clamped shut his mouth, quickly licking his lips before nodding. We made a silent trek to the classrooms. Just outside the doors, I attempted to make one final conversation, but he beat me to it. "I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything. It's just-I mean I just…I cant go to the dance." I glanced up at him, my eyes searching his for any hint that he had lied, but he was being completely honest. My lips formed a tight line and I nodded.

"That's fine. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" I didn't even wait for an answer, instead I twisted around and stalked into my last class.

The rest of the day dragged on, and it seemed as if that stupid rain cloud hovering above me, pouring onto me negativity, was never going to leave. By the time I had come home from school, I was completely leaning on just skipping the dance. I had collapsed on my bed, shutting my eyes and hoping to get a good nap, but apparently reality didn't want me to finally have some peace.

She only gave a quick knock before barging into my room. I didn't even hear the doorbell ring or my sister calling out to warn me she was here. In Amy's perfectly manicured hands were a make-up bag and a jewelry box. She abruptly stopped when she came across a semi-asleep me sprawled out on my bed. She huffed out in a strangled sigh, narrowing her blue eyes onto me. "Get up, now." She succinctly stated.

"Well that's not a very pliable tactic." I muttered into my comforter, not moving a single inch.

"Well this is." And before I knew what was going on, she had snatched my ankle, and yanked me off the bed, letting me fall right onto my face. My beige carpet didn't really help cushion my fall. I groaned, propping myself on an elbow and began rubbing my rug-burned cheek. I shot her an evil glare before rising to my feet.

"Bitch." I grumbled, stalked towards my bathroom. She followed in pursuit, a light skip to her step.

"Call me whatever you want, that won't change the fact that you're going to Formal." She chirped happily, plopping her items on my vanity before hopping onto it shortly afterwards. I washed my face, ridding myself of today's make-up so Amy could apply a new coat.

The process of getting ready definitely was gruesome. Two hours of make-up, hair and the perfect accessories to go along with our dresses. Amy chose a lacy, aquamarine dress, while mine was a dark purple and a ruffled skirt.

Soon, Nolan arrived, and the three of us make a quick trip to get some curly fries from Jack in the Box before heading down to Beacon Hills High School.

Now, whenever you see dances going on in movies, usually the school gym is decked out to the nines, streamers and things hanging from the ceiling, colorful lights all across the room, a stage with either a DJ or band on it, and a delectable array of treats over at the punch table. I had been expecting the exact opposite of that. Just some cheap disco ball in the middle of the gym, a boom box hooked up to the overhead speakers, not a lot of decorations, and a small bowl of punch. Just a very languid set up.

For once, this school has actually ceased to amaze me. I was astounded by how magnificent the whole décor was. When I had parked the Bronco and the three of us exited the car, I couldn't stop gaping at just the front of the school. It was amazing. A whole lot better than last year. The moment I heard the music pulsing, my hips immediately began wiggling. Amy giggled lightly while Nolan burst into a fusillade of laughter. I grabbed their free hands, and eagerly rushed us inside.

I had no idea why I even thought that tonight was going to suck. We hadn't even gotten into the school, and already I was in an ethereal mood, all giddy and ecstatic to start dancing.

The night started out better than I expected, instantly Nolan, Amy and I dancing all together, jumping up and down, Amy and I wiggling our hips while Nolan did the typical fist pump. Soon enough, we were joined by other lacrosse players while the band kept up with playing fast-tempo songs. An hour and a half must have flew by, and finally a slower song began playing. "Baby I'm Yours" by the Artic Monkeys to be specific. That was my cue to take a break, grab some punch, and rest my aching feet.

After I settled on the bleachers, I observed the couples, smiling warmly as some awkwardly held each other at arm's length while other, like my two best friends, were close together. They were both chatting idly, Amy flashing her thousand watt smile while Nolan candidly spoke about something I guess was funny, because he was earning a few giggles for the brunette. They were too cute for me to watch.

My blue eyes roamed around the vast gym. It seemed so weird, seeing it one day empty and ready for the basketball team to practice, and next thing you know, it's turned into a wonderland.

My gaze shifted towards the gym doors, inspecting those coming in and leaving the room. That's when I nearly choked on my punch. Walking in through the door was a complete liar.

Isaac nervously toyed with the cuffs of his white dress shirt, his black tie crooked and looked to be too tight. His pants were a bit big for him, and his dress shoes were worn out and scuffed. But that didn't change the fact that he looked absolutely adorable in dress clothes. He diffidently surveyed the crowd of teenagers, as if he were seeking out someone specific. When his eyes finally roamed over towards the bleachers, where I was perched, and his gaze fell on me, I gave him a warm smile and wild wave of my hand. Instantly his eyes brightened, and he raised his hand quickly to return the gesture. Then he started his way over to me in a slow pace.

When he reached me, my smile had formed into an eye crinkling, devious grin. I brandished a finger at him, my brows raised. "You liar!" I playfully yelled at him. I expected a shy bob of his head, or his eyes to drift down to his feet and his shoulders slump, but instead I received an actual, wide, genuine smile.

"I, uh, I had a change of plans." He sweetly replied. I finished the last of my drink, just as the music picked back up to when a cover of "Henrietta" by the Fratellis began. I hopped to my feet, holding my hand out to him.

"Well that's good, because now I have a dancing partner." I flicked my hand out towards him, demanding he take it, but his arms laid limp at his sides. He gave me a disconcerting look.

"I-I don't dance." He finally said.

I chuckled, before stepping forward and this time slipping his hand into mine, tugging him down the bleachers and towards the dance floor. "Well, at least that's better than 'cant dance'." I glanced over my shoulder to witness his absolutely terrified expression. I paused in my pace, causing him to abruptly stop right in front of me. I took note on our close proximity. "Don't worry, I'll be looking just as foolish as you will." I gave his large hand a slight squeeze, "If you go down, I'll go down with you." And with that, I gave him yet another reassuring smile.

He was hesitant, but once that smile broke out, he appeared more relaxed. "Okay." He said softly. And with that, I led us towards the center of the mosh pit of dancing students.

At first, he was very rigid in his dancing, just swaying left to right. It took some time and coaxing, but I had managed to get him into a decent rhythm. He was very augment by half an hour into it, bouncing up and down with me, each of us displaying different, and ridiculous, dance moves. I took his hands into mine a few times, twirling me under one of his arms, before I attempted, and failed to twirl him; since he was so tall.

We were just getting into the hang of things when the band once again dropped the tempo into a much slower song. The song must be an original one of the band's, but it still was a good song. I glanced towards Isaac, who immediately was shutting down from his once energetic state. He was uncomfortably shifting on his feet, his head ducked, and his hands once again nervously picking at the cuffs of his dress shirt.

I decided to be make the first move. I moved in closer towards him, before slipping my hand into his. He shyly glanced up at me, and the corner of my lips twitched up. I guided his hand to my waist, before taking the other one to place it on the other side of my waist. I snaked my hands up his arms, before wrapping them gently around his neck. "Now you lead." I said.

Instinctively, he began rocking us, a placid sway. For once, I felt that I didn't need to cover up the eerie silence. It was peaceful, comforting. Just the two of us, arms loosely wrapped around each other, moving slowly to the pace of the music. While dancing, I took the opportunity to glance over his shoulder and get a peek of some people. Mainly just Amy and Nolan, who were pressed up against each other, still giving off adorable vibes.

When my eyes snapped back at Isaac, I found him watching me. The way he was looking at me, it surprisingly made my stomach flutter. He looked as if this was one of the best things he's ever done. There was just such a joyful glint in his eyes, and it was contagious. "You look really pretty." He softly said, his cheeks turning pink.

"So do you." I instantly replied. I pinched my eyes shut, so badly wanting to smack myself on my forehead. "I-I I mean good. Handsome. Dashing. Anything but pretty." His cheeks were now a deep red, but he was smiling widely none the less.

We fell back into a comforting silence, but only for a few seconds. "I guess they weren't pouring salt in our wounds after all." I said, earning a chuckle from him. He was about to say something to that, but everything was cut short the moment a scream broke out among the room. Everyone began murmuring, their attention instantly flickering towards the gym doors, where red and blue lights began flashing from outside. "What's going on?" I inquired.

Isaac shrugged, glancing back towards me. "Let's go see." We hastily made our way towards the doors, to find police cars and an ambulance outside the school. A gurney occupied by a bloody person was being hauled into the back of the ambulance, and standing by the doors was a horrified Jackson Whittemore.

I quickly left Isaac, bolting out the doors and towards my ex-boyfriend. Was it Allison? Or someone on the team? My mind was reeling, and I began trembling, already becoming nauseous just thinking of whoever the person was. I kept getting quick flashes in my mind of a similar scene, one that happened about a year ago, and took place outside of my house.

The police had blocked off the section near the ambulance, and as much as I tried to shove and push towards Jackson, it was no use. I began screaming his name, my voice a high shrill that cracked. He swiveled around the moment he heard his name, and when his glazed over eyes landed on me, his already appalled expression worsened at my frantic state. I called for him again, shaking where I stood. I needed to know who it was. I couldn't lose another person close to me.

But Jackson merely turned away, leaving me in a hysterical state.

It wasn't long before Isaac had joined me, Nolan and Amy trailing behind, as they all failed in calming me down. Nolan explained that someone got mauled by a mountain lion; but that didn't make sense since the previous one was killed by Allison Argent's dad, and I know for a fact that they are solitary animals and never stay together.

Something wasn't right, and if it was affecting people close to me, I was going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

**And there you go! A pinch of Scott and Stiles here, a dash of Lydia and Jackson there. Sorry about not having a lot of them in the story so far, I plan on having Kelsey rotate into the pack a long ways from now. It'll be a work in progress. Next chapter will definitely be the first episode of Season 2, and I'm so excited! **

**Let me know if I'm kind of veering away from Cannon character's personality and/or actions, like if pre-bite Isaac doesn't do somethings he did in this chapter. OR just let me know what you think of this story!**

**Love you all!**


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